


Two Halves of a Whole Idiot (Plus a Baby !)

by VitulaAmore



Series: Two Halves of a Whole (Plus a Baby!) [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Almost Kissing, Apples, BBC Sherlock - Freeform, Boys Kissing Boys, Dating, Drabbles, Flirting, Funny, Humor, John Watson/OFC - Freeform, John Watson/OMC - Freeform, John's phone, John/OFC - Freeform, Johnlock - Freeform, Kissing, M/M, Not S4 Compliant, Pears, Sherlock's phone - Freeform, Shopping, Strawberries, Subtext, Tesco's, Text messaging, Texting, flirty texting, nearly kissing, no fucky problem, no tfp, park, sherlock bbc - Freeform, someone take my laptop from me, yay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-22 15:26:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VitulaAmore/pseuds/VitulaAmore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chronological,Linear story of how Johnlock didn't just happen, but slowly came together and John and Sherlock eventually became two parts of  a whole (idiot).</p><p>Non-Brit picked/un Beta'd<br/>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginnings

Rosamund “Rosie” Mary Watson was born the 23rd of March. She weighed 8 pounds,7 ounces. Sherlock announced her birth to all of Baker Street by savagely abusing his violin for seven hours.

Rosie was 8 months, 2 weeks, and 5 days old when Mary was shot;her past finally caught up to her. John didn’t ask Sherlock. He didn’t even call him after it happened. He just appeared at 221b in the middle of the night with his worn overnight bag, and Rosie, quietly drooling on his shoulder. “I waited until she was asleep” John said by way of explanation.

That was the last words he spoke for 33 days. He made tea,though, one for himself, one for Sherlock. He never said a word, just left it by the younger man’s elbow, patted Rosie, then disappeared back up to his room or, on the rarer occasion, behind a newspaper in his chair.

Sherlock pretended he could never hear John sobbing quietly in the showers. Or his feet, pacing for hours, at night.

On day 34 he thanked Sherlock for the newspaper.

It was a beginning.

For Sherlock, that was enough.


	2. Strawberry-Rhubarb Jam

John declined going on cases with Sherlock,even when Sherlock took ones that were inconsequential,that he could-and did- solve without leaving his armchair.

John always gave a small smile and a paper-thin excuse. He had insurance claims to fill out, Rosie needed him, he just started a new book.

John didn’t go out, he just sat and stared at the wall or the television all day,not really watching.He didn’t eat as well, just an apple here or there, an occasional glass of tea.

Just like when John first moved in: lame, quiet, merely existing.

And so it went for several months.Sherlock continued to take the cases, and John continued to exist, if barely.He was merely there to gather dust.

Sherlock wanted to grab him, to shake John, yell at him. But he couldn’t.

The cases did nothing to satisfy Sherlock, but he couldn’t stand the silence back at the flat;it made his skin itch and his veins burn for something more exhilarating.

But he had made a promise, to John, and to Mycroft and Gavin, that he wouldn’t use anymore. So he chained smoke during cases, on the roof at nights. His fingers were yellow and his tongue felt hairy and thick in his mouth.

The cases, at the very least, brought in an income and, on one occasion, an assortment of strawberry-rhubarb jam.

Sherlock lined them up on the edge of the table. At least he can use them for his experiment on coagulation factor II thrombin receptor like 2.

The following morning Sherlock was pleased -if not a bit surprised- to find John sitting at the kitchen table, munching on toast thickly slathered with strawberry-rhubarb jam.


	3. 99 Flake (Or, Sherlock's got 99 Problems and Mycroft is Every Single One)

It was unusually hot. Not because it was August, but because it was England whose Summer days consist of a brief sunny patch over a singular weekend. John had set up several fans throughout the flat, strategically out of reach of little fingers, but the fans only did so much when a certain consulting detective got bored and had access to wire cutters and a soldering gun.

 

John tossed the peas back into the freezer and dug for something else to cool himself down. Showers only went so far,and it wasn't safe to leave Rosie alone in the room with Sherlock when he's in one of these moods. Not after the jelly rabbit incident.  
"Ice cream?" 

 

Sherlock didn't even look up from his microscope. "Preposterous."

 

"POSH!" Rosie banged her spoon against the table. Rosie was now at the age of speaking-but-not-quite. That is, she spoke but she repeated only the middle bits of words.  
The first time it happened John had upended a jar of beetles onto the floor as he was sorting through books, in an effort to be useful. This quickly precipitated into the introduction of a swear jar.  
In the beginning, the proceeds were to go to a new table for Sherlock's experiments. After Sherlock gleefully filled the swear jar in less than three hours (and Rosie learned five new words), and after a very stern (and awkward) conversation with Mrs. Hudson, it was decided the money would go to replacing the bit of carpet the beetles ate. Hopefully before Mrs. Hudson noticed.

 

John hummed as he buckled Rosie into his cheer. He had been...different. Not happy, no, he wasn't there yet but he started to watch crap television again, and sit with Rosie at the table. 

 

The only thing he didn't do was join Sherlock on cases. Or date an endless line of insufferable women. Sherlock didn't want to think about that. He was content where they were now, slowly orbiting in the same space, sharing time.

 

Sherlock moved to the window as the ballistic gel set,playing quietly. When John returned he would lay Rosie down for his nap, make tea and fuss over Sherlock insisting he ate. It would be nice. Domestic. 

 

Maybe Mycroft was right, maybe John was making him soft. 

Sherlock snorted derisively at the thought.  
And pigs would fly.

 

Sherlock closed his eyes and lifted the bow to the strings.

//coda//

Sherlock bowed lower over the microscope as John slowly tread the stairs. Leg acting up,then.He could smell the sweaty-sweet smell of Rosie, and John's cologne.

"Always the 99 Flake, John?" He turned, the words dying in his mouth.John returned with a smudge of chocolate in the corner of his mouth, and a women's mobile number carefully tucked into his pocket.He wasn't humming anymore, but looked miserable. Sherlock's eyes flicked over the older man. 

Wasn't the ice cream -99 Flake for him, lolly for Rosie. Took a lap around the park then played on the grass - John sat with her -even though it made his leg ache- he won't sleep well tonight.  
Information swirled around him. He gritted his teeth which did nothing to soothe the throbbing in his temple.  
He needed something. A drink. A cigarette. No, something /more/. A case.  
Something.  
Anything.

A manila envelop stuck out from beneath a pile on the floor. No. Not that. He would not give Mycroft the satisfaction. He needed a case but NOT from his fat, insufferable brother.

 

Sherlock swept off his chair and stalked across the room to the window. 

Music. Music helped him think. And John was too distracting right now. He grasped the bow in white-knuckled fingers but he didn't play. He froze, the bow hovering over the strings. Waiting for it.....

A pause at the foot of the stairs. Scuff of material across the floor.Awkward. No, nothing to be awkward about. He could see John lick his lips in the window's reflection.   
Nervous,then.  
Nervous?   
"I'm laying Rosie down for his nap." 

Stating the obvious again John. Moot point. Remain quiet.

"Ok then. Well. " A pause then...there. John's sock feet whispering up the steps, missing the seventh step..don't want to wake Rosie....

 

John didn't come down for the rest of the evening.  
Sherlock did not know what it meant.


	4. Apples-SH

[Recieved 18:20] Pears-SH

[Sent 18:21:52:] Yes, what about them?-JW

 

[Received 18:22:00] I require pears-SH

 

[Sent 18:24:14:14] Of course you do. What kind?-JW

 

[Received 18:24:45] What are my options?-SH

 

[Sent 18:25:03] Really,Sherlock ?!?!?-JW

 

[Received 18:25:10] Yes. What are my options?-SH

 

[Sent 18:45 :45] Hosui,Shinseiki ,Moon Glow,Harrow Delight,Butirra Precoce Morettini,Jiugnos,Citron de Carmes -JW

 

[Received 18:46:00] What are the differences? Start with taste.-SH

 

[Sent: 18:47:02] I'm not going to taste-test each bloody pear,Sherlock. -JW

 

[Received 18:47:12] Why not? You've apparently nothing better on to do.-SH

 

[Sent: 18:47:59] You're an arse-JW

 

[Received 18:48:09] Pears,John,pears.-SH

 

[Sent 19:13:25] I've bought eight of each. Will that do?-JW

 

[Received 19:13:30] Yes-SH

 

[Sent: 19:13:50] Good-JW

 

[Sent 19:25:45] I'll be home in 30 Minutes. Make sure Rosie has clean bottles. -JW

[Sent 19:27:09] Away from whatever that is in the dish drain.

 

[Received 19:28:12] Apples-SH


	5. Cannibal Flagpole

A

John woke up to the sound of a drill. This would not be abnormal in any other household-an indicator of a project or maybe even a bit of DIY- but in 221B waking up to the sound of a drill was down right terrifying. For a moment John debated getting up and investigating, but then he remembered that given the source of the drilling, witnessing whatever (or whomever) his mad flatmate was drilling into would only make John an accessory during the fact. He rolled into a ball and pulled his duvet over his head.

B

2 hours later John rose for work. He lingered as long as he could in the shower,trying to keep his mind off what Sherlock could be doing in the other room. Unfortunately the more you try not to think about anything,much less a possibly-homicidal flatmate, the more your mind focuses on it. So,while shampooing his hair, John came up with at least twenty possible explanations for the drilling, the most worrying being:

1-Sherlock was dismantling something, such as a table,chair,etc (please God not again)  
2-Sherlock was building something horrid,like another guillotine (That reminds him; he owes Mrs. Nesbitt next door a cat)  
3-Sherlock was experimenting on teeth (God help us all)  
4-Sherlock was mixing concrete in the sink.Again  
5-Sherlock was screwing chairs to the wall .Again.  
6-Sherlock was fixing something HE broke (John had a good laugh at that one).  
Most of all,John not to think of the probability Sherlock was performing a lobotomy (5:1). And especially not on himself (3:1).  
Mostly, John was glad he'd thought to deposit Rosie with Molly early this morning.

C

John dressed and,towel-drying his hair, wandered into the kitchen.  
Sherlock was sitting cross-legged on the floor examining what appeared to be an instruction manual. A suspiciously long box lay on the floor along side an electric drill. John cast about for the reason for the drill-ah,yes. Sherlock had drilled holes in the floor and..John looked closer, yes,yes, the ceiling as well. John hoped it was for a pole,anything more. Because a pole would make perfect sense, like a flag pole to show their patriotism. John frowned. But why in the flat? John poured water over the teabags and considered. The only explanation for a flag pole /inside would be....Oh.  
John snorted, swallowing a laugh and busied himself, setting two cups on the counter, just so, a tea bag in each, boil the water, dump the sludge out of the tea pot, use a regular cooking pot instead after further investigation proves all other kettles are otherwise occupied. A normal day in 221B.  
He set out a carton of eggs while he waited for the tea to steep.He tried to think of other more...sane reasons for Sherlock to have a pole up (flag pole, lamp post,bird house)...but his mind kept coming back round to the first.John cracked an egg in to the boiling water and twisted the flame up "Starting a night job?"  
Sherlock looked round "What?"  
John snorted "Nothing." and busied himself with making a cup of Tetley and a poached egg, and concentrated hard on NOT picturing Sherlock pole dancing.

D

John came home late that night and stumbled through the door, head bleary with exhaustion. He shook his head at the pole,now with tabs running up one side, and wandered into his room,shedding clothing.John was climbing into bed when the realization hit him and he back-peddled into the living.John prayed he had been wrong, that he was so tired that he was seeing things.But then he examined the tabs running up and down the pole.  
"No...please God no."  
Just what he was afraid of ...skin, drying on tabs like little had to been at least 200 samples, like the flag for a cannibalistic nation.He looked at Sherlock,lounging on the sofa with a book on apiary. They had argued on the subject of keeping bees in the flat before

["NO Sherlock, what if someone is allergic and even worse, what if they become Africanized?"  
"Interesting. I never thought of that."  
"NO bees Sherlock ]

but John had bigger problems.

John rounded on Sherlock. "Is that..skin?"

 

Sherlock turned a page 'Yes."

 

"HUMAN skin?"

 

Sherlock didn't even blink. "Yes."

 

John opened and closed his mouth a few times. "Of course it is."

 

"Is that a problem?"

 

John barked out a laugh. "Is that..no at all." John rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands,exasperated. "And Mrs Hudson wonders why we don't have friends round." He shook his head. "Christ, human skin."

 

Sherlock looked at John curiously,eye brow raised. "Not Christ, John, merely prisoners, blackguards, that sort,some more dead than others."

 

"More dead than others." John repeated in wonder. He threw his hands up in exasperation "That's it,I'm going to bed."

 

Sherlock nodded and turned another page. 'Goodnight John.'

 

The only reply was the bedroom door closing.


	6. Leprosy Sandwich

[Text Sent: 13:21:54] You'll like this. A man came in today,thought he had leprosy, turned out he fell asleep with a jammy dodger in his bed. He was actually DISAPPOINTED he didn't have leprosy,Sherlock.-JW

[Text Received: 13:23:19] Me too. I would have liked a sample.-SH

[ Text Sent: 13:25:25] Of course you would -JW

[ Text Sent: 13:32:05] Thai for dinner? -JW

[Text Received: 13:33:09] Yes. You have my card. Order two servings of Tod Man Pla -SH

[ Text Sent: 13:35:45] Of course. I'll be home regular time. -JW

[Text Received: 13:36:29] Of course -SH


End file.
